


Survival Mode

by starsholland



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Escape, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Kidnapping, Mentions of Experimentation/Torture, Peter Parker Whump, Rescue, Scared Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsholland/pseuds/starsholland
Summary: Peter escapes from a three-month-long kidnapping and must find his way to safety.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 23
Kudos: 232





	Survival Mode

Peter couldn’t shake the feeling.

The buzz of electricity that had coursed through his veins only hours before.

His heart was beating sporadically as he stumbled through the high grass surrounding wherever the hell he had just escaped from. But he wasn’t safe yet.

Peter didn’t look back. He couldn’t. It would waste too much time, and he had to get out of there. He had to. His arms shook as he pushed away the yellow grass in front of him.

He was happy to leave the facility he had been trapped in behind him. The horrors that happened there would not be forgotten in his mind anytime soon, but Peter couldn’t believe he was only just now getting away. He was Spider-Man. And yet, he had been taken away from his family and loved ones for three months.

Three months.

He missed decathlon nationals.

He had only known how long it had been by the digital clock on his cell wall displaying the time and date. At times, it was nice for Peter to know how long he had passed to help get his barrings on reality after one of the experiment sessions. Other times, the clock mocked him, reminding him of how much time he had lost.

Peter tried to shake any lingering thoughts of the place out of his mind. He had only one priority: get away from the psychopaths that took him.

He had almost reached the edge of the grass when his head snapped around at the sound of the building he just left blaring alarms, flashing red. They weren’t as loud as they should be to Peter’s ears, and he knew that the drugs they had kept him on for three months were still in effect. Lights were flashing red around the outside of the building. In the distance, he heard shouting.

Peter kept moving.

It was difficult. For one, there were the drugs, making him sluggish and diluting his powers down to nothing. His right thigh had a long, deep cut running down it from the window sill he jumped out of to escape. His face was aching, blotched purple from the treatment of his captors. His whole body shook, remnants from the electric shocks his body endured only a few hours earlier.

He was tired and hungry, and most of all, he was cold. It was a chilly night and Peter didn’t have much to cover him. Just a torn t-shirt and a pair of shorts his captors had forced him to wear. His shoes were gone, leaving his feet bare. He winced when he would step on a rock.

When he finally made it past the grass, he entered a wooded area. He limped as fast as he could through it. It was almost pitch black, but the moon was bright, giving him just enough light to make out shapes. 

Fear flooded through him when he saw flashlights behind him. He cursed and dove to the ground behind a high bush, praying that they didn’t see him. He refused to get caught. The idea of these people taking him again after he’d given himself a false hope of escape made him sick. 

So, he tried to calm his breaths. It wasn’t easy. He was scared, and he was hurt, and he had just run a mile after severely hurting his leg. But, he managed it as best as he could.

About five minutes later, Peter got the nerve to move again. He realized he had been lucky. They turned the other way, meaning Peter had a clear path to victory.

He continued on his way.

Peter didn’t know where he was going. He was just hoping that he would find something eventually. A town, a gas station, a house, anything. He just needed a phone, and then he could call Tony.

As much as he wanted to call May, he knew Tony would be in the best position to help him. And, Peter was in survival mode. Tony would help him survive. God, he missed Tony. He missed everyone.

Every sound Peter heard terrified him, and only made him grow more paranoid that his captors were gaining on him. What would happen if they did find him? He didn’t want to know. But, the trees were loud from the wind, making the branches shake and bushes tremble, and so Peter did too. 

But he kept moving. 

Four hours later, Peter was close to collapsing. He had started to regret his decision of escaping. He had no idea where he was. It was dark, cold, and there was absolutely no way to tell if he was heading in a good direction or not. For all he knew, he could’ve been walking in circles.

Several different moments he considered stopping and maybe resting for the night. When it was lighter out he could continue on, but he quickly rid that thought out of his head. If he closed his eyes or stopped moving, he would be a sitting duck for his captors to find him.

And anyway, he didn’t know how long of a journey he had ahead of time. Any time spent resting or waiting could be detrimental to not only his success but also his health. He was sure that his leg needed medical attention.

He tugged his arms around himself and kept going.

At dawn, Peter finally found a road. At this point, he was barely moving, limping his way up the ditch and onto the somewhat-newly-paved asphalt. He would’ve been more excited if there were cars, but no, the road was abandoned, and now he had a decision to make.

Right or left?

They both looked the same, and ultimately he made his decision by remembering which way the guards following him had gone back in the woods. They had gone right, missing Peter.

So, Peter went left.

At one point, Peter heard a car rumbling down the road toward him. All he had been thinking was that it would be perfect if someone went driving down the road and they helped him. But yet, the moment he heard the engine, instinctual fear shot up his spine, and he dove back into the ditch and ran into the woods.

He cursed the moment he stepped behind a tree, questioning why he just reacted like that. _That was your chance, you moron!_ But, Peter feared the worst: that it would be his captors. Or, maybe whoever it was would contact his captors. Or maybe they would be just as evil as his captors.

He sighed, calming his breaths that had unnoticeably spiked up. He tried to listen and found that drugs were still affecting his body. He still couldn’t hear as well as normal, but the rustling of the woods was clear enough to convince him to go back on the road.

The sun was shining through the trees. Peter kept walking.

An hour later, hope struck through Peter’s veins. Up ahead, there was a gas station at the corner of the road he was on and another that branched off to the left. He approached cautiously, checking behind him every two steps to make sure no one was behind him.

And finally, he reached the gas station. He walked in slowly, knowing that he looked bad, and would probably scare whoever was in there. He just prayed no one from the facility he had been locked in was in there.

The door dinged when he walked in, causing Peter to jump. He eyed the store, taking it in and realizing it was completely empty aside from a teenager working at the register. The teenager stared at Peter with wide eyes, probably putting their hand on a bottle of mace as Peter moved toward them.

“Uh- h-hi,” Peter stuttered out, and he realized how long it had been since he had said anything.

“Uh, hey,” the teenager replied back, eyes still wide. “Do you need help?”

Peter nodded, tears filling his eyes at the sudden realization that he made it. He was so close to freedom.

“Can… Can I use a phone?”

The teenager nodded, pulling out their cellphone. Peter approached carefully, taking the cellphone out of their hand with a nod.

He typed in the number he had memorized since the day he got it.

It rang five times, each ring making Peter’s heart beat a little faster.

It went to voicemail.

Peter looked up at the teenager, who managed an awkward, nervous half-smile.

“I’m uh- just going to… to try again,” Peter said, a redialed the number after the teenager gave a small nod.

Ring.

Ring.

Ri-

“This better be good,” the voice on the other end of the line said.

Peter almost collapsed with relief. His eyes immediately filled with tears again.

“M-Mr. Stark?”

Silence. It was so quiet that Peter could hear the teenager breathe.

“Peter?” Tony asked with an intake of breath.

“Yeah...Mr. Stark?” 

“I’m here, I’m here, buddy. Listen to me. Are you safe?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Okay, can you tell me where you are?”

In the background, Peter heard frantic shuffling, knowing that Tony was likely suiting up and having Friday track the phone call all at once.

Peter gripped the edge of the counter, overwhelmed and exhausted and teary. 

“I-I… I’m not sure…,” Peter looked up at the teenager, “Where am I?”

The teenager rattled off an unfamiliar town name to Peter, that he immediately recited into the phone. He didn’t know where it was, but it didn’t matter. Tony would find him.

“Alright, bud, I’m on my way, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” Peter responded, gulping down, trying to stop his tears. 

But then, outside, three identical black cars pulled up into the parking lot of the gas station. Peter’s eyes widened, and he looked at the teenager, who was watching him and the cars with confusion.

“You have to help me,” Peter said to the teenager.

They looked at Peter confused again, but then realization struck in their eyes and they nodded, motioning over to a back door labeled ‘Employees Only.’

“Peter, what’s going on?” Tony asked through the cell phone.

Peter ignored him for a moment and limped quickly into the break room. He looked around, seeing a table with a couple chairs, as well as counters with a sink and a microwave sitting on top. Under the counters, there were cabinets. Peter impulsively dove toward the cabinets, curling into a ball to fit inside one.

“Peter?” Tony frantically asked again.

“I-I’m here,” Peter whispered. “I think they found me.”

“Okay, okay, just stay quiet. Are you hiding?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’m almost there, okay?”

Peter tried to listen, but his stupid ears were still not functioning correctly.

But, he heard a little. He heard the ding of the door as it opened and the loud footsteps that followed.

A gruff voice must’ve asked the teenager about him because he heard, “...looking for..seen him?”

The teenager responded, “No, sorry.”

The interaction continued as Peter’s heart raced. He was sure he was done for. His captors must’ve hacked the video surveillance of the gas station. They probably knew the teenager was lying.

He was so close to freedom, only to lose it.

But then, the footsteps receded and the door dinged as they left. Peter couldn’t believe it. They actually left. The teenager did it. As much as Peter wanted to, he still couldn’t make himself leave the cabinet.

Minutes passed, and Peter tried not to zone out, wondering where the teenager went. 

“Hey, Peter? Everything good?” Tony asked.

“Uh, yeah. I think they left. I’m in a cabinet but I don’t… I don’t know where the worker is.”

“Alright, I’m about a minute out. I’m going to hang up now, okay? I’ll be there very soon.”

“Okay,” Peter said. He felt small.

Tony hung up shortly after that and Peter waited, listening. He swore he heard talking, but couldn’t make anything out.

For a moment, Peter forgot how hard he was shaking and how much his entire body was aching, squished up into a ball and crushing every bruise he had. At least the claustrophobia hadn’t set in yet.

Peter heard the “ding” of the door and stiffened up again, thinking that maybe his captors had returned. The door to the break room opened.

“Peter?” Tony’s voice rang out.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, prompting Tony to discover the cabinet he was hiding in. Even knowing it was Tony, Peter flinched when the door opened, light flooding in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me,” Tony said, reaching a hand toward him.

Peter watched the hand, still as stone, until it hit his arm gently. And then, he crumpled, spilling out of the cabinet and into Tony’s waiting arms. Tony’s arms wrapped around him tightly, and for the first time in three months, Peter felt safe. Shivering, shaking, and hurt, but safe.

“Oh, Peter,” Tony said. “You’re okay, kid. It’s over. You’re safe.”

“I missed you,” Peter said, face in Tony’s chest, hand clutching the fabric.

“I missed you too, buddy. But, you’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“Is the worker okay?”

Tony nodded. “Yep. They called the police, so we are going to wait for them, okay?”

Peter nodded against his chest.

“Where are you hurt?” Tony asked, knowing that the real answer was “everywhere.”

Peter shifted so that his cut leg was visible to Tony who hissed at the sight of it.

Tony moved quickly and efficiently, managing to keep Peter close or calm while he moved around the break room. He found some paper towels and got them wet, holding them down on Peter’s leg, stopping the bleeding. He also wrapped his jacket around Peter, keeping him warm.

Not long after, the teenager came in, handing Tony a first aid kit, a couple of granola bars, and a water bottle. Tony opened the water and gave it to Peter, who didn’t hesitate to drink, completely dehydrated.

“T-Tony?”

“Yeah, kid?” Tony answered, opening the first aid kid.

“Thank you. Thank you for coming,” he said, tears falling down his face.

“Oh, kiddo, you’re welcome. I’ll always come to help you. You know that,” Tony said, leaning over and giving Peter a kiss on top of his head. “I love you, bud.”

“I love you too.”

Not long after, the police were there, along with medics and a few spare Avengers here and there. Peter was overwhelmed by the number of people, causing him to jump and shake at each new person who entered the scene. Tony was patient, explaining to him who everyone was, reminding Peter that he was there, and holding him tight when he trembled.

So, it didn’t matter that Peter was scared. He had Tony at his side, reassuring him, and Peter was safe for the first time in a long time. 

He doubted Tony would let him out of his sight for a while, and that was perfectly okay with Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also... feel free to request more Irondad and Peter whump stories on my Tumblr (@starsholland). :)


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